Power Pyramid doesn’t have much patience for nonsense. That appears to be the takeaway from the Oklahoma City quintet’s last 10 months, which brought The God Drums in September, the Insomnia EP in January and its latest, self-titled effort in July.
The world is in the midst of an electronic music renaissance, and you find most of this boon of producers laying claim to the club-friendly, bass-dropping variety, holing up in the the free-flowing world of hip-hop beatmaking or pitching their tent on the out-there, boundary-pushing EDM camp.
Broncho has never been hurting in the hook department. The success of the trio’s 2011 debut, Can’t Get Past the Lips, was predicated mostly on its ability to marry melodies with kinetic guitar riffs and anarchic energy. Yet we’ve heard nothing to the degree of pure pop catchiness on display in “Class Historian,” the new single from Broncho’s upcoming sophomore album, Just Enough Hip to Be Woman.
No one wants to be forgotten; everyone wants some sort of legacy, a mark they leave behind as they exit this life for whatever lies beyond.
And for as long as there has been death, there have been monuments — whether austere or understated, abstract or concrete, prominent or tucked away in private — erected by the ones they loved to assure that remembrance, at least for a time.
Chromeo with Breakbot and Mayer Hawthorne 7 p.m. Friday Cain's Ballroom 423 N. Main, Tulsa cainsballroom.com 918-584-2306 $27
Search “David Macklovitch” on Tumblr, and the fawning, meme-ified desires of early 20s, Urban Outfittersshopping hipsters will assault your laptop like a splotchy Moog synthesizer riff — the kind that Chromeo uses to build chart-occupying, electrofunk bangers.
Macklovitch (or “Dave 1,” as the duo’s smooth-voiced singer and guitarist goes by) and his best friend, Patrick Gemayel (aka P-Thugg), started the band in Montreal after working as hip-hop producers. Chromeo’s independently produced 2004 debut, “She’s in Control,” was received with incredulity by many critics for its unabashed embrace of ’80s-pop synthesizers, dated drum machines, talk boxes and titles like “Destination: Overdrive.”
“Our whole first album is shit.Well, not all of it. But like, half of it,” Macklovitch said. “We were never in a major-label incubator, we never had producers come in and tell us how to do shit. We learned in front of everybody. But we had ‘Needy Girl,’ and that was like a passport to the next thing.”
That eventually led to a deal with Atlantic Records, which distributed their third album, the yearold “Business Casual.” The record uncanned “Control”’s kitschier elements, opening Chromeo up to more elaborate and expansive production. The funk guitar grooves swelled, the synths glittered brighter, and the electronic textures seemed more tangible.
In other words, they grabbed hold of the least genuine music ever produced and blasted off into the stratosphere. Such irony; no wonder the hipsters love them for “Needy Girl” and “Fancy Footwork,” the songs that earned them marquee spots at festivals all over, including the recent Austin City Limits Music Festival.
“Those are true anthems in the blog/Urban Outfitters/American Apparel world,” Macklovitch said. “Some people think we’re like Andy Samberg or something. But we’ll go and tear it up out there.”
Typical of a pop artist, he is already eyeing the next thing, which will be Chromeo’s second major-label release. He thinks out loud about what he wants to improve upon from previous records — namely, his singing and guitar-playing. But unlike many kindred spirits before him, he realizes how immediately listeners can latch on to a pop song and quickly turn it into something else entirely these days.
“I put it out into the world, it’s not mine anymore,” he said. “It’s not for me. It’s for other people.”